Thumbtack
by niver
Summary: /AU/ So Deidara's a struggling, illegal immigrant, and Sasori's a kid who's not quite a kid. Obviously they'll get along great. /Deisasodei/ /in-progress/
1. Monster

**DISCLAIMER: I own nothing but my love for fictional characters. ARTIX!!!!!!!**

**A/N: I hope I'll be able to stay on top of this story. (gazes off into the distance) **

**Okay, this is Deisaso, for the most part, but because I doubt I'll ever actually post a lemon, you could leave it to your imagination. Though I do have a conversation that the two will have AFTER they get together that kinda . . . suggests Sasori as uke. But you know, I'll do my best to keep them IC, slightly bended of course to fit the AU setting. READ, DON'T READ, I DON'T CARE.**

**Rated: T for occasional swearing and because it's my comfort rating.**

**T_h_Um_B_tA_cK_**

_**Prologue: Monster**_

Deidara was never one to really care about his living conditions. If his room was messy, what did it matter? It was only his own filth and mess, and if he could live with himself, he could live with his messes.

But **DAMN**, was this room **DISGUSTING**.

Infested with cockroaches, the apartment was so gross that Deidara preferred wandering the city (Suna, capital of the Kaze country) to sitting in it. And sitting in the apartment was no easy feat, as he had no furniture past a ratty mattress in the corner. The floor was not an option, crawling with bugs, strangled by fungi and, like any place in the desert not properly protected, covered in a fine layer of gritty sand. The sand in Suna got so fine it could pass through cracks in windows and pile up in heaps on the sill, until someone was stupid enough to open the window and a large gust of wind would blow the particles _everywhere_. Deidara had learned this the hard way.

Then again, if Deidara hadn't wanted to live in financial despair in the poor section of a city where he knew no one, then he shouldn't have left his home country, (Earth; city: Iwa) for reasons better left unsaid. Though those reasons left unsaid were pretty damn good reasons.

After all, anyone who thought Deidara _enjoyed _waking up with cockroaches scuttling over him would be taught a lesson they would never forget.

So, in order to escape his filthy apartment, Deidara was on yet another walk. He had considered just living on the streets, but after a while of seeing no homeless persons, he's asked a passing person why this was, and they explained that anybody who stayed outside too long, without ever escaping the sun, would cook in the heat or get torn apart by mini-sandstorms in the city.

Deidara liked having all his body parts in place and not resembling bacon, thank-you-very-much.

"Stupid Suna . . . . should have moved to Konoha, but noooooooo, Suna is so much cheaper and closer, I said. Now look, h'm! Stupid Suna, stupid world, stupid no money . . ." If it occurred to Deidara that he was rambling, he showed no sign, as he walked the dusty streets of Suna. He'd gotten pretty good at it, and by now had mapped out a majority of the city and knew all the places that would hire him for quick delivery jobs so he could pay rent and not starve.

He passed by a wall absolutely _covered_ in posters, and made a beeline for it. There was always the occasional job on there, and Deidara wasn't about to pass up a chance to make money. "Let's see . . . dog walker needed . . . but I hate cleaning up after dogs, h'm! There's gotta be something better, h'm!" Deidara continued to search the brightly coloured papers

He had nearly given up hope and was ambling over to tug off a phone number for dog walking (if it weren't for his rigged change, Deidara would have lost a lot on phone booths by now), when he passed by a simple white sheet entitled in clean, bold, print, **Caretaker Needed**. Interested, Deidara paused. It was probably a flyer asking for somebody to babysit their loony grandparent and sponge bathe them.

Deidara could do sponge baths. He just had to close his eyes and pretend he was else where. So, he continued to read the poster.

**Caretaker Needed**

**We need an adult (18 plus, no under aged babysitters) to be a caretaker for our grandson while we are indisposed. **

**We are looking for a hard worker, who deals well with children and can be available at any time in wish we need them.**

**The pay is, to begin, fifty dollars an hour, though if you are skilled enough we will hire you as a full-time sitter that will travel with us and nanny for a 1000 dollars a month.**

**If interested, please contact the number below.**

Deidara paused, a grin on his face. "Look after some bratty kind for nice pay and a chance to vacation in exotic places, h'm? Sign me up!" He ripped the phone number on the bottom off, though noticing that for some reason not a single number had been ripped off. "Who would turn down a cushy job like that, h'm?"

"They're sane, that's all." Deidara turned to see a harried looking woman standing there. She had a long scar over the back of her hand and looked like she needed more sleep.

"Whaddya mean, h'm?"

"That's a monster you'll be looking after --- a devil child --- and everyone knows this. If you value your sanity, you won't call that number." The woman shuddered, clutching her shopping bag tighter.

The blond gave the woman an odd look. She didn't look quite right in the head, and was probably over exaggerating. People had probably just missed the poster like he nearly did. "Whatever lady. Unless this kid's got six-six-six tattooed on his face, I'm not believing any monster stories, h'm."

The woman gave him one final look before turning to walk off. She did pause however, her shoulders shaking. "Don't say I didn't warn you." She took a step forward, before stopping again. Deidara was just considering pushing her over when she continued. "And the thing is, he's not a kid."

"Huh?" Deidara then rolled his one visible eye. "Not any more of the monster crap, h'm."

The woman only shook her head and took off quickly. Deidara watched her go with a bored expression before sighing. "Crack jobs these days, h'm."

And with this comment, Deidara headed off to make the phone call that would change his life.

**.END PROLOGUE.**

**A/N: SHORT CHAPTERS SO I CAN UPDATE FAST. **

**THE PLOT COMES NEXT CHAPTER. AKA SASORI COMES NEXT CHAPTER.**


	2. Encountering

**DISCLAIMER: I WISH I OWNED. CRY CRY CRY.**

**A/N: SECOND CHAPTER. Short chapters so I can update faster, 'kay?**

**IMPORTANT: You might go, "Sasori don't look that young in the canon!?!" BUT, it will be explained. He's supposed to look like, thirteen. A small thirteen. I wanted him to look canon (trust me, it bothers me too) but it ruins the idea. Please deal, 'kay?**

**Rated: T for occasional swearing and because it's my comfort rating.**

**T_h_Um_B_tA_cK_**

**Chapter One: Encountering**

_---"So, you'll be coming over right now to meet him? We're also going out tonight, you can stay to keep an eye on him, correct?"---_

"Yeah. Be right over! Thanks again for hiring me, h'm."

_---"It really is no problem, sitters are so hard to find these days."---_

Deidara hung up, feeling quite accomplished. He'd called, and some old lady had picked up and introduced herself as Akasuna Chiyo. He told her his name (omitting his last name, he just told her he was an orphan). She then proceeded to gush about how happy she was to finally have a sitter for her grandson, and hired him right there, not even having seen him.

She sounded pretty damn desperate.

C'mon, if it got Deidara a job, he wasn't complaining. All he had to do now was go meet the apparent terror. He would walk, as there were no buses in Suna, and Deidara could hardly afford a taxi. Besides, these people lived way up in the nice side of town --- where all the extravagant houses and people with jobs Deidara would quite literally kill to have lived.

When he got there, it was early evening, and he took a second to glance down at his appearance. It was a bit . . . extreme . . . but if they were desperate, why would they care? It was only leather pants, fingerless gloves and a cropped shirt with fishnet that revealed his well built stomach.

It wasn't _that_ bad. Or maybe it was. Either way, Deidara could only smooth out his hair and hit the security buzzer. A voice crackled through, saying, "Deidara-kun?" Deidara hit the talk button and replied, "h'm," and the gates swung upon. Deidara meandered up to the (quite impressive) large oak door and the moment he reached it, the door swung open.

Standing there was a woman who looked as old as she sounded, and was definitely the ugliest old bag Deidara had ever had the misfortune to lay . . . . an eye . . . . on. He supposed she may have been pretty once, but it wasn't like you could tell at first glance. And then she spoke, welcoming Deidara inside.

He came in, and was greeted by marble, a majestic staircase that swirled upwards and tasteful décor. The house wasn't a mansion, but a large, two-floored house that just screamed louder than a two year old having a tantrum, 'money!'.

"So, Deidara-kun. You'll be meeting him soon --- I think he's upstairs." Chiyo commented, and Deidara waved his hand lazily at her.

"No worries, obaa-san. Let --- what did you say his name was, Sasori? --- come when he wants. We don't have to rush the kid, h'm." Besides, the longer he took to come, the higher chance of Deidara getting invited to eat something with them. One part of financial despair was lack of edible food.

Chiyo gave the blond a little look, before commenting, ". . . did I not tell you over the phone? Sasori isn't a kid --- didn't I tell you . . ."

"Nope." Deidara commented, as he stared blankly at the old woman. "If he's not a kid, why did poster say he was, h'm? Why does he even need a sitter, h'm?"

"Well, it's slightly difficult to explain ---" before Chiyo could continue, a male voice called from the top of the stairs. Deidara blinked. Seeing as the voice had just called 'obaa-san', he had to assume this was the grandson she needed to be looked after. _'Pretty deep voice . . .'_

"Sasori? Your new sitter is here, why don't you come meet him." Chiyo called out, and Deidara noticed she was looking slightly nervous. Why? Deidara could assume, based off the fact that she was so desperate for a caretaker, that the kid rarely approved of the people his grandmother chose.

"Another one, Chiyo-baa-san? I really don't need one." The voice --- Sasori's voice --- was quite gentle and slow, but there was a subtle undercurrent of anger. Chiyo must have noticed this as well, since she gave a tired sigh.

"Please, Sasori? Deidara-kun is quite qualified!!" The blond turned to the old woman, tearing his gaze from the stairs, where the sound of the slow thumping of feet descending came. _'I am, h'm?' _Deidara thought in amused surprise, before turning back to the stairs. All the lights on the top floor appeared to be out, for the upper half of the stairs was bathed in shadows. If he squinted, the blue-eyed teen could make out the vague shape of a person. _'Kinda small . . . okay, how old is this brat, h'm?'_

"A male? First one in years, obaa-san. Though he does look like a girl with all that hair ---" Deidara tuned out the rest of Sasori's sentence, as he fought to control the urge to go pound in the kid-who-wasn't-a-kid's face. Deidara liked his hair. Deidara was manly with his hair. Deny it, and you got beaten **hard**.

Yet all thoughts of violence fled Deidara's mind as the person he was to be looking after finally stepped into the light, and paused there in order to survey the situation better.

That low voice could **NOT** be attributed to such a small looking **CHILD**. And it couldn't be anything but a small looking child. A slim body --- covered by a pair of loose pants and a large tee shirt with a smiling flower on it. A hint of broadness in the shoulders, the gaze follows down the thin arms (clutching a doll of some sort) and the graceful line of the pale neck (the kid was pale, pale, pale for someone who lived in the desert).

Then there was the crowning glory of the kid; his head. For one, his face was curved, still with baby fat, and had only a hint of sharpness in his cheekbones. His hair was red --- actual, apple-red --- soft in appearance and had a naturally mussed look to it. His eyes were drooped and deep set, almost like an old man's sign of tiredness. They were coloured a light chocolate brown, with the second prettiest set of eyelashes Deidara had ever seen on a male (the first belonging to an old acquaintance of his). The mouth with pink lips was curved up into a deceptively gentle smile --- deceptive because it did not reach his eyes, and was simply _cold._ The kid seemed cold in general; or not cold, but wooden. He held himself with excellent poise, and gave off the idea of being relaxed, but it all seemed stiff and _wrong_ to Deidara. Like, a painting --- or a doll --- or a puppet.

Despite this, there was only one thing Deidara could think. _'He's fucking cherubic.'_

"Oh, do I have something on my face?" A small, well-cared for hand came up and touched his cheek while Sasori gave something akin to a smirk down to Deidara. The blond's reaction was immediate --- he glared, shook his head, and turned back to Chiyo as the sound of the red head descending the steps and towards the duo echoed off the light cream walls.

"I'm confused, h'm! He looks like a kid, talks like an adult and you still haven't explained anything! Why does yonder midget look so young, h'm?" Sasori stopped next to the pair, confirming Deidara's 'midget' comment --- the boy? barely reached his shoulders --- Deidara wasn't exactly a giant; he was only five foot eight or so!

While Sasori pointedly ignored the comment on his height and began to fuss with his doll's curls, Chiyo gave another tired sigh. "Sasori is . . . special. How old are you, Deidara-kun?"

"Uh, eighteen. h'm. Don't see how this relates ---" before he could continue, Chiyo cut him off with a wave of her wrinkled hand.

"Sasori is nineteen, most likely a whole year older than yourself."

". . . you're kidding, h'm." Deidara stared down at Chiyo, clearly telling her she was insane. "There's no way Sasori here is older than me, h'm."

"Well, Deidara-kun, Sasori was born with a . . . problem. You're aware of how free radicals in your body dying cause aging, correct?"

"Err . . ."

"Never mind, they do. Well, Sasori has a condition in which the free radicals in his body are breaking down at an incredibly slow rate --- causing him to age slowly. However, on the inside, he is growing at a normal speed, and the contrast is not exactly healthy. Therefor, we need to keep him inside and prefer having someone to keep an eye on him." Chiyo took a deep breath, before continuing. "It isn't the only reason, however. There are some . . . troubled . . . persons in our world."

Deidara got what she was hinting at; any sicko would love to get his hand on someone who _was_ legal but _looked_ young. He turned to Sasori, giving him a look that was nearly pity. "Tough break, ki—man, h'm." The blond could hardly call his new job a 'kid', could he?

Sasori only gave another one of his fake smiles. "One could assume. Obaa-san, are you going to give him a tour or am I going to?"

Chiyo closed her eyes, clearly relieved that Sasori had apparently accepted her choice. "I will --- it's your bath time. Ebizou and I are going out tonight, so make sure you listen to Deidara-kun." They watched Sasori turn to leave, before Chiyo turned to the blue-eyed blond. "Coming, Deidara-kun?" She asked, as she headed to what appeared to be a living room.

". . . coming . . ." Deidara replied, as he tore his gaze away from the retreating form of Sasori. There was just something _unsettling_ about that guy.

As he followed the grandmother through the nicely arched doorway, he realized why. He couldn't shake the idea that maybe the crazy lady he had met earlier had been right.

He'd have to keep an eye on the apparent 'devil child' with the chilling smiles and the baby face.

**.END CHAPTER ONE.**

**A/N: Now the DRAMA can begin. And the title of the story will be explained!**


	3. Breaking

**DISCLAIMER: I own Naruto. Seriously. To prove it to you, I'll tell you what will happen in the manga next chapter: someone will talk. You'll see. I'm Kishimoto-sensei.**

**A/N: THIRD CHAPTER. Short chapters so I can update faster, 'kay?**

**Rated: T for occasional swearing and because it's my comfort rating.**

**T_h_Um_B_tA_cK_**

**Chapter Two: Breaking**

The living room was understated and elegant, designed for entertaining. It was divided by a half-wall from the dining room, which boasted a table that could seat a minimum of eight. There was also a cabinet filled with well-placed china, some of which was so thin and old you could see through it. Through a door to the side, you traveled down a small hallway that was apparently behind the staircase, and it led you to the kitchen. There was also a flight of stairs that apparently led down to the basement, which only had a 'wine cellar, pantry, and a workshop'.

The kitchen was full of stainless steel, tiles, and large windows that looked out on the side yard where one could see something that looked like a hybrid between and cactus and a tree and was highly decorative. There was a swinging door that led you back to the front of the house, where the family room existed. Contrary to the living room, it was more designed for comfort, and held the biggest, flattest television Deidara had ever envied. From here the was a set of double doors that led back to the entryway, with the staircase. From here you could see another swinging door which was the third entrance to the kitchen.

That was only the first floor.

Deidara was almost afraid to be led to the second.

Up the winding stairs, and Chiyo hit a switch that flooded the second floor with light. It was a wide hallway, and the old woman quickly pointed out the two bathrooms, her bedroom, her brother's bedroom, and Sasori's bedroom. All of which Deidara was forbidden from entering (the bedrooms, that is). Then she showed him the library, that held the most books Deidara had ever seen inside a house, and even had a fireplace. Contrary to popular belief, the desert got cold during the night during winter. She then showed him a plain, cream-toned room that she indicated would be his room if they ever needed him to stay the night, and where he would room if he got hired full-time.

It had a walk-in closet, a mini-fridge, a television, radio/CD player and a double bed.

Deidara was determined to impress. That room was sweet. Sweeter than anything he'd ever had.

The tour over, they headed back downstairs, where Sasori's great-uncle had decided to appear. His name was Ebizou, he had huge white eyebrows, and eyes that seemed constantly shaded because of his long, hairy caterpillars, clinging to the space above his eyes. He was cheerful and slightly senile.

He also thought Deidara was a girl.

"Deidara-chan, it's so nice of you to work for us. Most pretty girls are too busy with their lads to help out an aging set of turtles like us!" Ebizou then laughed, and Deidara had to remind himself that this was an old man, and he would most likely get into serious trouble for socking him. He gave Chiyo a desperate look, hoping she'd help him, but she only gave him a wicked smirk before tugging on Ebizou's sleeve.

"Yes, Ebizou, Deidara-kun is a very nice girl. Now are you ready? We're running late." The old man glanced at the clock sitting on an end table in the family room, and nodded.

"I'll go get the car running!" He called as he trotted slowly out the room, and Deidara stared after him. He knew it was vital that any person with money to burn owned a car --- damn expensive things --- but was it vital that they drove it? Especially if they appeared to be pushing a hundred?

"So, Deidara-kun, you know where everything is? Numbers on the fridge, phone by the fridge? If you call in an emergency, you only have to say Akasuna and they'll know which house, they're always coming here. Sasori should be finishing his bath soon, could you get dinner heated up? It's in the freezer. That all? Good luck!" Before Deidara could even register the flurry of words, Chiyo had exited the room, and the shutting of the front door followed shortly after.

As if on cue, footsteps came from the stairwell, and Sasori soon appeared in the doorway to the family room. He was wearing a pair of pajamas that were imprinted with the repeated pattern of fluffy bunnies. Deidara stared at this. And stared. And stared a bit more.

Sasori, noticing his gaze, shrugged. "My grandmother and uncle buy my clothes." As if this explained everything, he walked to a point beside Deidara. Once there, he turned around again and gave Deidara an irritated look. "Stop standing there and looking stupid, blondie. It's your job to get my dinner ready, isn't it?"

Deidara glared after the red head as he followed him into the kitchen. Deidara guessed any manners Sasori had put up around his grandmother were gone, as Sasori informed him in a snobbish tone that if the blond walked any slower, the door would hit his ass --- adding, that, of course, Deidara would enjoy it.

Instead of getting into an argument about his sexual preference, Deidara chose instead to go get the dinner out of the freezer, and slide it into the oven and turn it on to an appropriate temperature. Noticing that Sasori had been quiet during this process, Deidara gave him a suspicious look, but the red head only gave him a 'what?' look back.

Before Deidara could sit down on a stool around the kitchen island, Sasori chose to ask, "why did you choose this job? It doesn't look like something you'd do." The blond paused, and glanced at the brown-eyed young man.

"Well, my apartment is crap, h'm. And it'd be nice to be able to buy some art supplies. Clay, h'm." Deidara was pulling out his stool, when Sasori asked yet another question, and Deidara decided to not relax until the third degree was over.

"You do sculptures?" Sasori looked quite keen on the idea.

"Naw. Well, yeah, but not really. I only make 'em so I can shatter 'em, h'm. It's true art; a fleeting moment of beauty, gone once you've had a chance to admire it, just like a human life, h'm!" Deidara could go on for quite a while when discussing his opinion on art, but before he could continue, Sasori only made a disgusted noise.

"You're an idiot. True art is eternal, in reflection to humanity's inner desire to last forever, to be remembered, to _not _be over in a second, to live a long life then be remembered by future generations." Deidara opened his eye wide in shock. This brat did art?

"Uh-huh. And what do you do, paint, h'm?" Deidara leaned against the island. forgetting momentarily about his stool.

Sasori shook his head. "Puppets. Dolls. They last forever, and every time they break, you can easily fix them." Deidara shuddered slightly. This was a creepy enough statement on its own, but paired up with Sasori's vague smile, it was positively disturbing. It didn't help that he'd thought the red head resembled a puppet or a doll on their first meeting. Talk about art reflecting one's self.

On noticing Deidara's shudder, Sasori rolled his eyes. "You have no taste. And are you going to sit down, or keep standing there like an idiot." Deidara only gave the red head a glare that could curdle milk, before sitting down on the stool ---

--- only to jump up in surprise a millisecond later, shouting in his shock. "What the hell, h'm!" Turning quickly, one hand rubbing his sore rear, he glanced at the stool and tried to identify the cause of his pain. And there it was, poking up from the stool's cover, a thumbtack.

If it could be called a thumbtack. After Deidara worked it free of the seat's covering, he could see that the monstrosity was nearly an inch long and deadly sharp. "How the fuck ---" suddenly, the answer hit him, and he raised his head to give Sasori a poisonous look. "Are you the one who put that there, you little brat?"

Sasori's face was bland, devoid of emotion, as he replied in a bored tone, "yes." Deidara gaped at him.

"Why, h'm?!" Deidara was pissed; what kind of psycho child-in-appearance did that sort of thing? At nineteen, you'd think he'd be more mature than that!

"Since it's technically illegal to cause you any major harm." Sasori was playing idly with a polished piece of wood that Deidara had not noticed when the other male had come downstairs after his bath.

"But WHY do you want to hurt me, h'm?" Deidara could not think of anything he'd done to really deserve that sort of treatment. Well, couldn't think of anything he'd done to _Sasori_ to deserve that sort of treatment.

Sasori sighed. "It's not about hurting you. It's about harassing you enough so you'll quit your job. I don't need a sitter. And in order to get rid of you, I will push you until you break. Under, of course, the guise of childish pranks I won't get in trouble for. Understood, _sitter_?" The last part was said with such vehemence, that if Deidara had not been just presented a challenge, he would have winced.

Instead, he leaned on the island and gave the red head a large grin that bared all his pearly whites. "Bring it, you little brat. I need this job for more reasons than you don't want me to have it, h'm. And I'm not about to let some _kid_ who can't do anything but _whine_ and can't even go _far enough_ to get rid of me, well, get rid of me, h'm."

Sasori leaned forward as well, an angrily smug look painted on his pretty features. "Can't go far enough to get rid of you? We'll see about that. How far do you think I have to go?" There was a look in those warm yet cold brown eyes that clearly suggested that Sasori had the kind of cruel streak maladjusted children had.

"Are you willing to kill me, h'm?" Deidara widened his grin, his gloved hands coming together and his bare fingers weaving together so he could balance his chin on the support they formed.

"I don't do the killing thing." Sasori replied, as he mirrored Deidara's actions, the piece of wood firmly clutched in the palm of his hand. "Besides, didn't I say I'm avoiding anything illegal?"

Deidara let his grin dissolve into a smirk and gave a careless shrug. "Well, that's too bad, h'm. I won't break, so that's the only way you'd get me away from this job, tearing it from my cold, dead fingers, h'm."

Sasori only gave Deidara an evil look and turned his gaze determinedly out the window. The blond watched this with a small smile, and felt quite safe in the fact that he'd won that argument. His single-eyed gaze then found a third wood-painted-silver-for-a-weathered-look stool, and he went over to it, choosing it solely for the fact that it was nearer to the oven and further from Sasori. Feeling the brown-eyed man's eyes on his back, Deidara did a quick check for thumbtacks.

Feeling satisfied, the blond male plopped his rear down on the stool, which shuddered.

Before he could register this strange movement for a clearly inanimate object, Deidara was sent crashing down to the ground amid the pieces of the stool. From the angle on the tiled floor, he could see Sasori leaning across the island in order to smirk down at him.

"I helped Chiyo-baa-san assemble those. We learned the hard way that if you didn't add in one piece, the entire thing would collapse." The red head commented this idly while waving the piece of wood in his hand, which the blond then noticed was the weathered gray of the stool.

Deidara could only glare.

**.END CHAPTER TWO.**

**A/N: Gawd, blame any and all errors on the fact that my dad took out the basement door in order to bring our couch down into the basement. It is wintertime. My fingers are turning blue. Put it together.**


	4. Danna

**DISCLAIMER: LOL, i sooooo one naruetoooo!11!11 **

**A/N: FOURTH CHAPTER. Short chapters so I can update faster, 'kay? Their relationship moves sloooooooooooooooooooooow.**

**Rated: T for occasional swearing and because it's my comfort rating.**

**T_h_Um_B_tA_cK_**

**Chapter Three: Danna**

Deidara had been working for the Akasuna family for nearly a month, and had already been introduced to two new things: for one, a better apartment, that, for all it's bareness, was actually clean. Second was the routine he and Sasori had developed.

If Deidara only looked after Sasori two times a week, it was a slow seven days. Sasori's grandmother and great uncle were apparently diplomats who lived at home for health reasons and only occasionally visited other countries (Chiyo said this allowed them to visit more countries than your normal diplomat).

So, the blond had to look after the red head, on average, four or five times a week as his aged relatives attended parties, government meetings and the such. These occasions were normally for an entire day to an evening long. And during this time, this was the general rundown of their time together.

Deidara came to the house.

Sasori would greet him with a large smile and a cheerful, "Deidara-san!"

Deidara would reply with an equally large smile and an equally cheerful, "Sasori!"

Chiyo and Ebizou would leave.

Sasori would wait until the door closed before ordering Deidara to do some menial task, such as prepare him something to eat or watch one of his puppet shows.

Deidara would comply. Cue first overly cruel prank during or right after menial activity.

Sasori would smirk, then disappear into his room for an undetermined amount of time, returning to the downstairs just as Deidara was getting comfortable in order to boss the blond into doing something.

Cue second overly cruel prank.

Deidara would bitch this time, and order Sasori to his room.

Sasori would leave, or stay and argue about punishment. Depended on his mood.

Chiyo would call home to check up on them. Deidara would act chipper and announce everything was going great.

Sasori would wander into the family room just as Deidara hung up in order to join him on the sofa.

Some actually peaceful time would follow, until Sasori ordered Deidara to make him something to eat.

Deidara would obey, and once everything was calm again, this would cue the third overly cruel prank.

Sasori would come up for some excuse to go upstairs (bathroom, for example) to escape Deidara's angry yelling.

Deidara would be that close to going upstairs and wringing Sasori's scrawny neck when the door would open, allowing Chiyo and Ebizou to come in.

Sasori would come downstairs, and greet his relatives with a smile and a hug.

Deidara would announce that it had been fun, and he couldn't wait until next time.

Sasori and Deidara would say goodbye in sickly sweet tones.

Deidera went home.

This was the accepted routine, but is fluctuated constantly. For example, around their quiet, peaceful time, Sasori did not order Deidara to do something, instead, he asked a question.

"Deidara?"

The blond glanced at the red head at the announcement of his name. It was a quite rare event, since Sasori preferred calling him 'sitter' in as evil a tone he could muster.

"H'm?"

"Why do you wear your hair like that?" Sasori asked, staring at Deidara's luxurious blond locks. Deidara, assuming that this was an insult to his manliness, only glared, until Sasori added, "over your eye, I mean."

"Oh." Deidara blinked in surprise, and reached up a gloved hand in order to push away the thick fringe covering his left eye. Underneath was a mechanical device that Deidara had mentally labeled his 'scope'. "To cover this, h'm."

"What's that?" Asked Sasori, and Deidara wrinkled his nose. It was also a rare event for Sasori to ask many questions about Deidara's personal information.

"It's a scope, h'm. Or that's what I call it, it's mostly a camera with a zoom option. I made it myself, h'm." Deidara boasted the last part in pride, a wide smile on his tanned face.

"You made it?" Sasori asked, a look of surprise crossing his face. "I wouldn't think you'd be smart enough to manage that."

The blond let his hair cover his scope-eye, his mouth an angry line and his eyebrows drawn together in irritation. "I'll have you know I've been called a genius, brat."

"Really. Shocking." Sasori commented, a now fake look of surprise painted on his pale face. Deidara growled. but before he could say anything, Sasori continued. "Doesn't your 'scope' impair your vision?"

". . . it's already impaired, h'm." Deidara commented, as he turned his face to the side, clearly indicating he wanted no more questions. Noticing that Sasori was being silent again, he turned his face forward again, only to be greeted by a curious, child-like face that was far too close for comfort. "H'm?"

"How so?" Sasori had stood up, and leaned in on Deidara's personal space when the blond hadn't been paying attention. Deidara gave him an angry look, and kept his lips pressed together tight. He didn't feel like answering the inquiring red head's questions.

Sadly, Deidara was forgetting an important thing about Sasori; his grandmother and great uncle spoiled him bratty. He was used to getting what he wanted. So, he would not pay attention to Deidara's clear desire for privacy. Therefor, without further ado, Sasori gracefully hopped onto Deidara and proceeded to straddle the blond, his small hands coming up to the other male's face. "I asked you a question," an annoyed Sasori commented, as his hands attempted to push Deidara's hair out of the way.

The blue-eyed male was too fast however, as his larger hands came up and grabbed Sasori's. "Stop that." He ordered, trying to push the red head off his lap, to no avail.

Sasori struggled to free himself. "Just tell me, and I'll leave you alone," he growled, eyes narrowing in frustration as Deidara easily overpowered him.

Deidara sighed. He could tell Sasori felt like being persistent. Well, there was no harm in telling. Not really, anyways. "Fine. I'm completely colour-blind in my left eye, h'm."

"That's not too bad," Sasori paused, rolling his shoulders as he thought. "So you mix up colours?"

Deidara shook his head. "No, I mean that this eye---" he gestured to his left eye, still holding Sasori's hands in one of his, "---can't see colours at all, h'm. Black and white. I cover it up because it's harder to see, h'm. The world is so sterile . . . and fake . . . and not vibrant . . . when it's all shades of gray, h'm." Deidara sighed, closing his fully-working eye. "You look even more like doll than ever under this eye, brat. H'm."

Sasori gave Deidara a startled look, his mouth twisting in distaste. "I'd prefer puppet. And stop calling me a brat, you brat." Sasori apparently did not feel like touching any further on a subject that clearly bothered his blond caretaker. "I deserve respect, you work for me."

"I work for your grandmother, h'm." Corrected Deidara, as he finally let go of Sasori's hands. To his surprise, instead of returning to his seat on the carpet, Sasori let his head fall onto Deidara's shoulder as he snuggled closer. The blond, not knowing how to react, froze. After deciding that Sasori wasn't about to stab Deidara with a push pin, the blue-eyed blond allowed himself to relax, an arm reaching out and curling around the red-head's small form. Looking down at the bundle now in his arms, Deidara felt a small smile creep up on his face. "Fine, h'm."

"You actually will?" Sasori tilted his head in order to survey the blond suspiciously. "Awfully nice of you, sitter."

"Well, I realized you're right, h'm. You deserve respect befitting your many years . . . Danna." Deidara gave a wicked grin at this, and it was clear he meant the suffix 'danna' in respect to the fact that Sasori was a year older than himself. Or, as another way to put it, in a mockingly respectful manner calling Sasori an old man.

". . . you brat." Sasori mumbled, before turning his heated glare into the crook of Deidara's neck. Deidara only snickered a tad in reply, before settling back in order to allow Sasori more room to cuddle.

Deidara had no idea why he was allowing such a thing. Sasori didn't either.

**.END CHAPTER THREE.**

**A/N: SMEXEH. They're getting closer, I suppose. Next chapter, more bonding, then some unfortunate un-bonding.**


	5. Forever

**DISCLAIMER: If I owned Naruto, I . . . might still be writing fanfictions. Err. If I owned Naruto, it would be much worse.**

**A/N: FIFTH CHAPTER. Short chapters so I can update faster, 'kay? LOL, more bonding, then some un-bonding. BE GLAD GUYS. I hurt my wrist, it's a bitch to type right now. D: Well, know it's better. (Can you tell I wrote this over the course of several days?) **

**Rated: T for occasional swearing and because it's my comfort rating.**

**T_h_Um_B_tA_cK_**

**Chapter Four: Forever**

The duo were still on the sofa, and Sasori had assumed Deidara to be asleep. The blond's chest was falling rhythmically, and if Sasori pressed his ear flat against Deidara's chest, he could hear the steady thumping of his heartbeat. The teen's blue eye was closed, and Sasori felt quite comfortable to assume that is he decided to set the sitter on fire, he wouldn't notice until . . . well, he woke up. Which would be right after Sasori set him on fire. Besides, were burn marks highly noticeable? Sasori didn't want the repeat incident of getting into serious trouble after he gave his last sitter a long scar on her hand after playing "catch the kitchen knife".

He decided to discard the burning plan, and settled for deciding why he was sitting on Deidara's lap. Sasori wasn't the clingy type; maybe when he was very young he had been, back before his grandmother had become his principal guardian. But all children were, and that was over eleven years ago. No, Sasori was not clingy. Maybe it was because Deidara was highly comfortable --- he was! Though was that a good reason to ruin his pride? Not really. Sasori needed a reason --- for example, what if Deidara decided to ask _why_ Sasori was using the blond as a mattress, or a chair.

Then it hit Sasori! He was doing this because subconsciously, he had already thought up some amazing prank of some sort! And he was just luring Deidara into false confidence . . . it seemed so true, that the red head ended up believing this. He was just settling down again, as he had bolted upright at the realization of his own genius, trying to come up with a prank to play. "You know, when you think, you get this angry pouty face going on, h'm. If you weren't such a brat, Danna, I'd say it was cute, h'm."

Sasori did not register that Deidara had spoken at first, though when it occurred to him that they were the only people in the room, he jolted a tad in surprise. Then, he actually noticed what Deidara had said and let out a huffy sigh. Luckily he didn't talk out loud while thinking, instead of simply making faces. That would not have been good. "Whatever, I'm just surprised you're awake. You looked like you were asleep."

Deidara chortled as he cast Sasori an amused look. "I would never fall asleep around someone trying to ruin my life, h'm," the blond rolled his visible eye. "Naw, I was just thinking about what you said earlier, h'm. Something about wanting to be called a puppet more than a doll, h'm. Why?"

Sasori didn't appear to have many reservations discussing this, contrary to Deidara's distaste to bringing up his eye. In fact, once Sasori began, there was some real emotion in his voice and on his face, past the usual apathetic personality tinged by smugness and false smiles. He wasn't bouncing with excitement, but there was this subtle kind of longing passion in his brown eyes and woven into his voice.

"Puppets last forever, they are eternal. If they break, you can fix them. If I were a puppet, I would be immortal, I could last forever. Puppets don't have to worry about anything, they are immune to their own death and the death of others, they have no heart to break. No more of the pathetic worries humanity has to suffer under. Free to live life as you wish, without the reservations and regret." Sasori finished with a sigh, as he shifted in Deidara's lap. The only response the long-haired teen had to this, at least for a few seconds, was to blink. Before speaking, of course.

"Lasting forever, h'm? Seems kinda stupid, ya know? I mean, humans are only useful for so long, h'm, and when they lose that usefulness, they should just die, h'm. And I know, when I don't have any reason left to live and all my options have blown up in my face, I'm going to go out with a _bang, _h'm."

Sasori looked mildly annoyed.

"Now that seems kind of stupid. Are you saying that humans die once they lose their usefulness?"

"Pretty much, h'm. Why else would they die? I just want to make sure my exit is big, h'm. If you live forever, you're just extending a pointless life, since you're escaping your death, h'm."

". . . what if they don't have a choice? What if they die young, when they still have things left to do, just because of some idiotic occurrence they can't control?"

"If they can't control it, then it's a sign from above, h'm."

"What if they've been dying ever since they were born? They know they'll die at a certain age?"

"Then they've been given a clock to outrace, h'm. Sounds pretty exciting, h'm."

At this comment, Sasori looked positively furious.

Then he got eerily calm.

"You know what also sounds exciting?" Began Sasori, as he slid out of Deidara's lap and landed with a light 'thump' on his socked feet. "The fact that while you were distracted, I sewed your pants to the couch."

Deidara's reaction could easily be compared to some type of aquatic animal, before he firmly closed his mouth and smirked challengingly. "I don't believe you, h'm. You don't even have a needle or thread, h'm."

Back to fish-mode when, without the appearance of really caring, Sasori pulled out a bobbin with a needle tucked firmly in it from his pocket. Deidara stared at these for a few minutes in shock, before recalling that Sasori was fully capable when it came to sewing (he made all his toys' clothing). The red head also boasted the ability to cook, clean and other such generic, stereotypical housewife acts. Though that wasn't really important. What was important was the fact that Deidara's response was to lean back, cross his arms and glare, choosing not overreact and begin scrabbling at his pants like Sasori would clearly enjoy. "Un-sew me, h'm. These are nice pants, h'm!"

"I can't un-sew you, the stitches are too tight." Commented Sasori with a shrug, as he placed the spool of thread on an end table, picking up some scissors to fill his empty hand. "Though, I suppose I can cut you out."

"That's what I meant by un-sewing me, h'm!" Deidara exclaimed hotly, not really caring if this statement didn't make much sense. Sasori only gave one of his cold, secretive smiles in reply as he snipped the scissors a few times in the air menacingly.

"I know what you meant. I just don't suppose you get what I meant." Noting the blond's suspicious look, the brown-eyed boy sighed. "Relax, I'll guess I'll try my way around the stitching, see if I can wiggle the scissors in."

Deidara, for the life of him, could simply not figure out why on earth he had been so trusting at this moment, from his knowledge of Sasori's lack of a desire to help anyone unless it benefited him somehow.

Yet, he trusted. O how he trusted.

For several minutes, nothing but the repeated snip-snip-snip of the cutting utensils filled the room, and Deidara could feel them pressing into his legs, but it didn't really bother him. There was something about the gentle, repeated chopping motion against his legs that was almost relaxing, so he sat back, closed his eye and allowed the calm to wash over him.

That is, until Sasori commented, "done, stand up so I an get the stitches out of the couch." And Deidara obeyed, as he snapped open his blue eye, and put both his arms down to give him momentum as he jumped into a standing position.

For some reason that Deidara couldn't comprehend, the next sound he heard was the crumpling of fabric, and the next thing he felt was warm desert air cooling his legs, that had been eating up in their tight fabric casing.

Almost worried as to what he would see, Deidara allowed his single-showing eye to drop downwards, and was greeted by the sight of his boring, gray boxers and a pile of dark material at his feet. It didn't quite connect in his mind as to why he was standing there in his underwear, and he turned to glance behind him and saw the second half of that dark material still on the couch. Something clicked, but it didn't register entirely.

"Why are my pants cut in half, h'm?"

Sasori gently sat the scissors down on the end table as he plastered a look of mock surprise on his face. "I'm sorry, I must have cut the stitching holding your pants together!"

Deidara stared a bit at his shorter elder, before turning his shocked gaze back to what remained of his pants. "Those were nice pants, h'm." He commented in a shocked-quiet tone, before bending over to pick up the half of the pants on the ground, and then aiming his collection of clothes that formerly rested on his body to the half on the sofa. When he tugged at it, he was surprised when he met no resistance, in fact he pulled the entire dark material free from the couch with no tearing.

And then it registered.

"You little brat! You never sewed anything, did you, h'm!" Deidara was **FURIOUS**. **NO ONE** messed with his clothes, his hair, or anything else that was **HIS AND HIS ALONE**.

Sasori rolled his eyes. "Acute observation." The blond could feel his anger mounting as the red head brushed the situation off like it was nothing. The blue-eyed young man then decided there was only one simple statement that could sum up how he felt to his part-time ward.

"I hate you, h'm." Short and not-so-sweet, and clearly perfect. Yet Deidara was still seething; he would have liked nothing more than to take up those scissors from the side table and plunge them into Sasori's childish body.

The red head's response was a bored look as he turned to exit the room. He didn't even stop, or turn around, for the next words that left his mouth.

"I hate you too."

Deidara had no reaction to this, as he kind of guessed this fact – wasn't too hard, considering Sasori's behaviour towards him. The blond waited until Sasori had exited the room completely before allowing himself to collapse on the sofa. "At least the feeling's mutual, h'm."

**.THE END.**

**A/N: LALALALALALA. FEELINGS OF HAAAAAATE, IN THE AAIIIIIIR Trust me, this will turn into something better eventually. Hate is a needed step in any cliché yaoi pairing!**

**OMG SORI AND DEIDEI ARE THE SAME HEIGHT? OR SORI IS TALLER? LOLWUT? (STABS CANON) That makes Sasori around ... 5'3/4/5? At least he's still short. :3 Though I've lost any semblance of respect for Deidei. past my love for his 'art'.**


	6. Visit

**DISCLAIMER: If Sasuke has honestly become MOAR of a pirate by the last few chapters, I still won't have been writing Naruto, even though I would love to be Kishi-sensei. WUAH WUAH SASUKE-KINS IS ALL BROKEN AND SAD! WUAAAAAAAAH!**

**A/N: SIXTH CHAPTER! WOOTWOOTWOOT! I was almost unsure on how to begin this, since I kinda forgot what happened at this part of the story. -sweatdrop-**

**Rated: T for occasional swearing and because it's my comfort rating.**

**T_h_Um_B_tA_cK_**

**Chapter Five: Visit**

Deidara had an interesting hobby. One that centered around his fourth-floor apartment, clay, open windows and a twisted amusement in messing with innocent old ladies.

It would go as such.

The blond would make a clay statue on the table in front of the window, and allow it to harden in the sun. He would then lean out the window, wait for an elderly female to pass by (apparently his district was full of them) and drop the sculpture so it would shatter inches from the woman. These old bags would promptly screech and go into momentary cardiac arrests.

It was fun.

Some may call it a waste of money, for the clay, but Deidara didn't have anything else to spend his money on. He, by the norm of late, ate at the Akasuna household.

Speaking of the Akasuna household, past he and Sasori's mutual hatred for each other, nothing had really happened. Of course, there was a niggling feeling in Deidara's mind that he was forgetting something, but then again, he had just woken up and was lounging around in his messy apartment. (Messy, not dirty!)

So, he leaned out the window of his messy, not dirty, apartment, and caught sight of something that made his blood run cold. No, it wasn't a furious brigade of offended old bags, it was two old people and a small, cute redhead.

_'Shit.'_

Deidara had forgotten they were coming over today, to discuss some 'propositions'. When Deidara had inquired as to why he couldn't come to their house, they replied that they wanted to see his new place.

His messy, not dirty, new place. _'Shit.' _It was then that Deidara realized he had about three minutes to clean up his apartment and put on some pants. As you can imagine, he took off from the window in order to begin the hasty process of straightening up his mess. This involved throwing his sheets on his bed, his dirty clothes in the hamper and his unclean dishes in the sink.

It was only after he got every last piece of dirty clothing in his overflowing hamper with a lot of shoving and cursing did Deidara realized that he had nothing to wear. "That can't be right, h'm!" A panicked Deidara cried, as he proceeded to yank open his drawers. All he had left was a lone sock, a gray tank top and a pair of pajama bottoms. "How could I not notice how low my supplies were, h'm?" Deidara whimpered, as he fell to his knees in despair. Well, he did until he realized that was simply over dramatic, and straightened his body in order to tug out the pajama bottoms with a wince. Sure, he needed pants, but this was ridiculous. He could only _begin_ to imagine the look Sasori would give him if he answered the door in a pair of bright, neon-bubble-gum pink cotton pajamas.

It appeared the blond would have no choice however, as at that moment someone knocked on the door, and if it was a choice between ratty boxers with holes in them and eye-smarting pink PJ's, he'd take the more colourful choice.

So, without further ado, he yanked them on, shut the drawers, and ran to the door. After he opened the only barrier between him and humiliation, he was greeted by stares at his pink PJ bottoms. ". . . nice pants." Smirked Sasori, as his critical eyes took in the apartment. Deidara felt himself blush dully in embarrassment, as he invited them in with a wave of a gloved hand.

"Sasori-kun, I'm so glad you think so. One of my ex-girlfriends bought them for me, back home." Deidara replied, fighting any urge to be snarky, as the red-head's grandparents were there.

"One of?" Questioned Sasori, while Chiyo and Ebizou pointedly ignored the conversation in order to murmur over the colour of Deidara's curtains. The blond smirked.

"Yeah, back at Iwa, the girls really liked me, h'm. Those were the days . . ." Deidara sighed, noting that the red head looked like he was strongly resisting an insulting comment, perhaps something along the lines of lesbians. It's not like Deidara hadn't heard it plenty of times.

"Sasori, run along. Deidara-kun will be talking some things over with us." The duo turned, and Deidara gave a look of thanks, while Sasori only looked disgruntled at the fact he was being treated like a kid. Again.

While the blond showed the old siblings to the seating area, Sasori sat down against the wall, waiting for boredom to strike. It didn't take long, following right after the resentment. (How dare they treat him like a kid!? Deidara was the youngest here! Just because he _looked _young . . . and Deidara didn't even have any TOYS. Come on! Now he's bored and angry! Stupid grandma, stupid Deidara, stupid lesbian girlfriends and their stupid pink pajamas!)

With an angry, huffy, sigh, Sasori pushed himself up off the ground in search of something to amuse him. The trio in the corner were quite involved, so Sasori knew better than to bother them. So instead, he wandered into an adjoining room, which proved to be Deidara's tiny washroom.

Feel vindictive in his lack of something to occupy his devilish mind, the redhead began to squeeze all the toothpaste from the tube, all the way down the drain. "See you keep your perfect teeth without this, you dumb sitter . . . you're probably some hippie's love child, that would explain the hair." Sasori had spotted the blond's hairbrush, and proceeded to use toe nail clippers he'd found while exploring the medicine cabinet to clip off the bristles.

The bathroom eventually ran out of amusing things to do, after he was done clogging the toilet with a mixture of tooth floss and toilet paper (the entire roll!). So Sasori ambled over to another room (noticing the trio still talking, and Deidara looking utterly happy) and found the bedroom.

"Disgusting . . . look at that hamper, he has too much leather . . . I bet he forget we were coming over. Guess we're not important, huh? Can't even be bothered to make his bed . . ." The youngest Akasuna muttered this with a frown, trailing off as he began to organize the sheets and blankets on the blond's bed. After he was done, he took in the sight of the neatness, and winced. Okay, you did not make the bed of your mortal enemy. That was creepy. "Than again, it could throw him off . . . keep him on his toes . . . I bet he's the type of homosexual girly-men who do ballet . . . probably wears a tutu . . . heheh . . . I should buy him one, match his pajamas . . ."

Bored again.

Sasori reached the entrance to the bedroom, and surveyed the layout of the blond's space. They were STILL talking! And they were pulling out maps for some reason. Okaaaaay. "Probably doesn't know where Suna is, that dumb little piece of . . ." with an aggravated sigh, the small teen headed over to the window, and found that he couldn't look out because a table blocked his path. "Huh?" Sitting on top of the table was a large piece of clay, wrapped up in plastic. Next to it was a medium-sized clay bird, half-baked by the sun.

An evil smirk crawled across the red head's face, as he glanced over his shoulder to check if anyone was paying attention to him. When the answer was 'no', Sasori turned back to the window, picked up the clay figurine, and tossed it straight out the window with a victorious smile.

That was fun.

.

.

.

Bored again.

So, after looking over his shoulder again, Sasori heaved with all his might in order to push the block of wet clay straight over the still of the window. Excited to see what the result would be, Sasori hoisted himself up on the table, and crawled over the small surface in order to stick his head out the window.

The clay had created a splatter effect that had (unfortunately) splattered some poor old woman, who was standing stock still, most likely frozen in fear. She probably thought the war was still going on, crazy bag . . .

Realizing that maybe sitting on a table for 'no reason' was just a _tad _suspicious, Sasori slipped off and wandered back over to his first seat against the wall, near the door. He rested there for a few minutes, watching as the trio in the corner wrapped up their discussion.

And then someone knocked – no, _hammered_ – on the door, and the three whom Sasori had been watching glanced up in surprise. ". . ? Get the door, Sasori." Chiyo took charge first, and Sasori rose to his feet with a concealed grumble and opened the door, to reveal fury hotter than Hell on the other side.

"Where. Is. He." It was the old woman whom Sasori had clay-bombed hissed, her wrinkles scrunched up in her anger, as she clutched her purse tightly. Sasori stared blankly in reply.

". . . Who?"

"That blond brat, that little girl who keeps ATTACKING us innocent elderly citizens with CLAY!" The 'innocent elderly citizen' spat these words, and Sasori doubted the woman could even see him, as she was focused entirely on Deidara, whom her roving eyes had just settled on. "There you are!" She pushed the red head out of the way, before storming over to the long-haired male and hitting him _hard_ with her purse.

"Wh-what! Ouch!" Deidara winced, and attempted to protect himself with his arms, but to no avail. Chiyo and Ebizou had appeared to be relatively frozen in shock, until they stood up and carefully edged over to Sasori. Like they were afraid to make and sudden movements. "Stop it, h'm!"

". . . not going to save him?" Asked Sasori in a careful tone, not wishing to betray his joy at seeing his sitter get beaten up by some old grandmother.

"Sasori, don't you recognize her!? That's the ex-Kazekage-sama's mother!" Hissed Ebizou, and Sasori suddenly felt a chill make its way down his spine while pity formed in his heart for Deidara. The ex-Kazekage's mother was well known as the craziest old woman in all of Suna, maybe even the entire of Kaze. Her son used to run the city AND the country, so she felt this made her queen of the world and she could treat people as she wished. (Ignoring the fact that being Kazekage meant you lived for your people, not that you ordered them around and ruled them with an iron fist.) Paired up with the fact that she most likely was going senile and had several mental problems, this made her a ticking bomb. If you set her off, there was very little that could stop her.

She would, in the most likely outcome of this situation, clobber Deidara to death.

And even _Sasori _wouldn't want someone to die by _her_.

Apparently Deidara wished not to die as well, as while the Akasuna family watched in fear, he began to attempt to push the old woman away. However, all this did was give her an opening, and she swatted his head with her purse. It almost sounded like she had a brick in there. "-- teach you to disrespect me! My son was KAZEKAGE! Oh, just wait until I tell him --" With each word, she hit harder, and Deidara apparently snapped a little.

"Stop it, you fucking crazy old cunt!" Screamed the blond, and he kicked out firmly, just missing one of the old woman's spindly little legs. "I REFUSE to take shit from some batshit insane WHORE! The hell is your problem -- ouch!" Chiyo winced at Deidara's . . . colourful language, and placed her hands over Sasori's ears, who was staring so wide-eyed he resembled a deer caught in headlights. Sasori knew some naughty words . . . but this was a plethora of swears he could have never imagined!

"Sasori, go stop her!" Chiyo begged, while Ebizou took a step to hide behind his sister. Deidara was apparently was having trouble talking now, as the elderly woman's hits to his head were becoming more frequent.

"How!?" Sasori could still hear fine, as his grandmother's hands were small and Sasori's hearing was quite good. "I'm not risking my life!"

"Sasori, she remembers you from when ex-Kazekage-sama used to babysit you before he ran away and never came back!" (Wonder why.) "She'll calm down if you go talk to her nicely!"

The redhead paused, brown eyes blinking slowly. After several tense seconds ticked by, he nodded in agreement, which freed his grandmother's hands from his ears. "Fine. Watch an expert, Chiyo-baa-san." So, with a deep breath, Sasori allowed his features to rearrange themselves from apathetic tinged with fear to gentle edges and a soft smile. He then walked over to the silver-haired old lady who was beating up his sitter and tapped her politely on the shoulder.

Deidara, who had been feeling quite woozy from the abuse his head had suffered, felt rather surprised when no more hits came. He opened an eye he had closed in pain, and saw that Sasori was giving the old lady a fake, but amazingly realistic, glowing smile, and being nice to her!

"I didn't want to be rude and stop you from attacking my sitter, but I really wanted to say 'hi'," he began, shyly rubbing an arm, "it's been a real long time, you know." Deidara stared in shock, unable to believe how easily Sasori, the kid-who-wasn't-a-kid, the young man who hated people who couldn't tell his age, could pull off being, well, a kid. A cute kid. A REALLY cute kid.

Wait, why was Deidara blushing again?

". . . Sasori-chan?" The old lady blinked, before a broad smile stretched her pinched lips. "Sasori-chan! I haven't seen you since . . . well, it must have been years! You're still small though, are you sure you've been drinking your vegetables . . ." Deidara could only gape as the crazy old bat turned into a calm, senile, grandmother. A-maaaa-zing. (No, really!)

While Deidara watched, hardly believing what he was seeing, Chiyo and Ebizou took control of the now-calm old bag, and showed her out the door. Then, the trio that was the Akasuna family came and sat down next to Deidara, breathing sighs of relief. "Never again . . ." commented Ebizou, tugging absently on one of his caterpillar-eyebrows. His sister and great-nephew nodded earnestly in reply.

"Woah . . . that was pretty . . . exciting . . . h'm." Mumbled Deidara, rubbing his head in embarrassment (which felt nice against his bruised cranium). "Good thing we're going away, I don't want to make up in the middle of the night with her looming over me with a kitchen knife, h'm . . ."

Sasori's head shot straight up from staring at his lap, confusion and suspicion clear in his brown eyes. "We're going somewhere? We who? Where?" And then he noticed that his grandmother was smiling genially and patting Deidara on the knee in empathy, while Ebizou mumbled about buying new jackets. The blond was giving him a confused look.

"Huh? You didn't know, h'm? Chiyo-san hired me as a full time sitter, h'm. I'm going with you guys on your trip to the Snow Country, h'm." Deidara was smiling at the thought, thoughts of vacation dancing in his single blue eye. Sasori felt the world plummet around him into a dark voice at these words, hardly believing their truth. NO! They could not of . . . _'not without asking me! But they think we get along . . . but we don't! NO! NONONONONO! I REFUSE.'_

"Isn't this great, Sasori?" Asked Chiyo happily, as she turned to pat Sasori's knee in place of Deidara's. "I know how much you too like each other, so I'm surprised you didn't realize this was coming." Sasori gave his grandmother a tight-mouthed expression, not wanting to reveal his anguish. If he did that, Chiyo would discover his and Deidara's rivarly/hatred situation, and then somehow, Sasori would have 'lost'. And that wouldn't do.

So, it was with a heavy heart and an angry mental glare to Deidara that Sasori forced a smile onto his lips and commented through clenched teeth, "I can't wait."

**End Chapter Five**

**AN: Sasori doesn't swear. I suppose he does rarely get out . . . SO, NEXT CHAPTER, A VACATION OF EXOTIC PROPORTIONS! YAOI FANGIRLS! BIKINI WAXING! Okay, maybe not the last one . . . see ya'll next time! I HOPE THAT UPDATE WILL COME FASTER THAN THIS ONE DID! And warning, I didn't have time to read over this . . . I'll edit later.**


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